One boat, flying the Croonah's houseflag, made its way more
leisurely through the still, clear water. This boat was bringing
mails to the Croonah, and in the letter-bag Mrs. Harrington's last
missive to Luke had found its place. This letter had been posted by
the well-trained footman while Eve and Fitz stood at Mrs.
Harrington's bedside. Before it was stamped at the district office
the hand that wrote it was still. And it contained mischief. Even
after her death Mrs. Harrington brought trouble to the man whose
life she had spoilt by her caprice. The letter ran -

"DEAR LUKE,--Just a line to tell you that you may bring your
portmanteau straight up to Grosvenor Gardens when your ship arrives
in London. I read of your fortunate escape from the cyclone, and
congratulate you. I dare say I shall be having a few friends to
stay when you are with me, so you need not fear dulness. Yours
affectionately,
"MARIAN HARRINGTON.

"P.S.--I always suspect you of having, consciously or unconsciously,
possessed yourself of the affections of a young lady who shall be
nameless. A word to the wise: make good use of your opportunities,
for there are other aspirants in the field--a certain brilliant
young naval officer not unknown to you. Moreover his chance appears
to be a good one. You must waste no more time."

It happened that Luke FitzHenry was in a dangerous mood when he read
this letter. He had been up half the night. The captain had been
cross-grained and unreasonable. Even the mildest of us has his
moments of clear-sightedness when he sees the world and the
hollowness thereof. Luke saw this and more when he had read Mrs.